Always Growing Back
by Doctor Kaminari
Summary: This is the sad tale of how Cormac Limbs came to be. This story contains spoilers for stuff from book 6 onwards, so beware!
1. Prologue

As I'm sure some people know, I haven't finished either of my stories, but then again, it doesn't really matter. Anyway, this story is about how Cormac Limbs came to be known as one of the most amazing performers in Cirque du Freak. Please R&R!

Disclaimer: I do not own Cormac Limbs, Mr. Tall, and all the performers in Darren Shan's legendary saga. Thank you.

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Always Growing Back

The Story of the Upbringing of a Performer

Another show was over. When the audience had exited their performance tent, everybody finally relaxed. Nobody truly was, until the public was gone. Cormac Limbs stretched his arms and legs, feeling their flexibility. As he stretched, he thought of how he had finally arrived here, being accepted, or rather _anticipated_ by Mr. Tall. That had been so long ago. His memories trailed back to the time when his parents realized his 'talents'. The expressions on their faces...... How they treated had him afterwards...... Being abandoned...... Looking for a place to go...... 

His thoughts were cut off when somebody called, "Party in the pre-performance tent!" Everybody grinned, and rushed over. Rhamus Twobellies was known to eat everything before the others had even got a second helping, and they were starting to get fed up. In a good-humoured way.

Cormac walked slowly. He never really minded about who took what. All he minded was that he got at least one doughnut. Chocolate, if they had it. He smiled. It was unlikely that Rhamus would save him one. He'd have to do with a soggy bun, he supposed. As long he got something in his stomach, it would get him through the night.

Soon, everybody was inside the tent, having a feast. Rhamus burped loudly, and several "eeew"s and "keep it down!"s was heard. Cormac was alone to himself. His thoughts wandered off to the distant past once more, and he gazed dreamily at the sky, wondering whether he would ever see his family ever again. He knew Mr. Tall knew, but he decided against asking. It would probably not wield results.

"If only I could see my mother one more time..." whispered Cormac to himself. In the shadows, one man heard him. He nodded, and quickly slunk away into the shadows. Cormac hadn't realized the man's presence, but it would make the greatest of differences in the future......

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This isn't really a good start, I know, so don't be surprised if I replace this one.


	2. 1 Childhood Days

I decided to make this story a **Quikread©**, where the chapters are short, to enable you to finish them real quick, and wait for the next one to come. This one's a flashback, by the way.

To my reviewers:

WildTotodile: All I can say is read, read, read (my story)!

Jerichoholic-Edgehead: I'd just like to thank you for your reviews to my stories. I'm touched sob (I also have story in the Artemis Fowl column named, 'Fartemit Owl', if you want to read more)

The Freaky Angel of Fire: Hey, thanks!

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Chapter 1. Childhood Days

_(46 years ago)_

The sound of a mechanical saw was distant in the snowy landscape. A father and his son strolled across the pavement, smiling. They were alone. Not a person in sight.

And then, out of the blue, another sound. The sound of a car. The father heard the sound, but he was too busy to worry. His infant son, just learnt to walk, gurgled and giggled. The pair was happy. Strange behaviour for people about to face a terrifying fate.

But the driver in the car was not happy at all. He was burning with rage. And the reason was the father. He pressed the accelerator of his car flat to the ground. The sound of the engine grew louder. He was going too fast. This was becoming suicidal, and he knew it. A voice in the back of his head said, _stop! What do you think you're doing! Do you want to die? Stop the car!_ But he ignored it. He did want to die. As long as the man did too.

The engine droned on, and the father finally turned towards the car. He and his smiling son were halfway across the road. It was too late to move out of the way. He recognized the driver, and his intentions, and started to scream. The boy started to cry. The roar was deafening now.

A woman stepped out of a small, yet cosy house. She saw the events unfolding, and she too screamed. But nobody could do anything. She watched, in horror, as the car crushed her husband, the sound of crunching bone barely audible. The scream died away into a quiet sob. The father's body smashed into the windscreen. Now the driver, grinning insanely, could not be seen.

Pieces of glass flew everywhere. One of the pieces scratched the woman's leg, and she gasped in pain. But it was a minor cut, and she did not take her eyes off the road. Because her son, with his face blackened and dirtied, had somehow survived, and was trying to crawl over to her. His whole right arm, and his left leg from knees downward, were gone. His clothes were ripped to shreds. The glass had sliced it clean off. But he was alive, and the mother could not be any happier. She approached him, arms outstretched.

But just as quickly, she stopped. And she started screaming once more, a scream that made glass shatter. She looked upon her son with horror. She stepped back, wailing now, holding her face as if it were about to fall off her neck.

Her son's arm and leg was growing back. There had been no blood; just stumps where limbs should have been. But now, at an accelerating rate, his arm and leg was growing back. From the stump in his shoulder, tiny fingers grew, then grew bigger, and all the while a limb stretching out after it. The same with the foot; tiny toes grew out the end of his knee, followed by a leg. After a few seconds, he was whole again.

His mother fell down onto her bottom. And as she continued wailing and crying, another sound was added. It was an explosion that rocked the street, shattering glass, and cracking the concrete path. The car had hit a tree, and exploded. Flames engulfed the car and the tree. The crackling of fire filled the evening air.

But the mother heard none of this. Her eyes were transfixed on her son, slowly standing up on his new leg, then walking towards her. He was smiling once more.

Neither saw the man who dropped out of the remains of the car. He lay there for a few moments, then got to his feet, and limped away. The man smiled. Revenge was sweet.

_(Present day)_

Cormac snapped out of his flashback. He realized he had been sobbing quietly. Just thinking about his father, and his death, was enough to bring a tear to his eyes. He reached forward, and opened the tent flaps, where inside he could hear laughter and merriment. He smiled. He knew everyone would notice the tears he had shed, now dry on his cheeks. But only Mr. Tall, and a certain other knew what had really happened to him. And the other was his mother. Hw wished, once more, that he could see her again......

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Yeah, so I know that in _the real_ Darren Shan Saga it said he had found it out when he had cut his finger off, but I decided to go a bit extreme. Do you like it? R&R!


	3. 2 Something Left Behind

Two updates on one day! You lot are lucky! You find out his real name in this one. And another surprise!

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Chapter 2. Something Left Behind

Cormac scanned the seating arrangements. He was on duty to find anything left behind by the audience, and report it to Mr. Tall. So far, he had found nothing. As he came to a stop at the front, he found a suitcase under the seat. He went over, deftly took it out, and scanned inside for any trace of the owner's identity. After a while, he hit the jackpot. A name card, with the letters printed in gold, winked back at him. It read:

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**Roy L. Project**  
**General Manager of Daily Obsequies Incorporated  
****We handle obsequies daily!**

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Cormac took the bag, with the card, to Mr. Tall. As usual, Mr. Tall opened his door just before Cormac knocked on it. He read the card, nodded, and spoke. 

"Cormac, you take this to the man yourself. The address is on the back." He then closed the door before Cormac could answer. _Very abrupt behaviour, even for Mr. Tall_, thought Cormac, as he approached the road.

_(36 years ago)_

A boy, just turned ten, approached a grave. The morning breeze was cool on his forehead, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. The grass was soft and moist beneath his feet. Sounds of laughter drifted along the graveyard. Children, the same age as he was, were probably playing. It was a Sunday.

He placed his flowers on the grave. The gravestone said,

**

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**

**Here lies Arthur Drewman**

**Beloved Father, Husband, Friend**

**He died too early**

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A tear crept down the cheek of the young boy. Although he had been only three at the time of his father's death, he could still remember his father as if he had seen him only yesterday. He still had his photograph on his bedside table. With kind, determined eyes, strong features, and blonde hair cut smartly short, he was the most handsome man the boy had ever seen. 

He also remembered the face of the murderer. He had seen the face through the window, the split second before his father thrust straight through it. The face had been twisted with anger, but with sneer of a mad man. Luckily, he was dead, or so he thought. He didn't know his name, but a face was enough. And still he wondered, _why had this man murdered his father? What was the reason? _He still didn't have an answer.

His thoughts were interrupted by a call from his mother.

"Colin! Come back here! We have church to go to!!" she shouted.

Colin smiled sadly. He wondered what the future had in store for him. At least he still had his mother. He looked at his fingers, his arms, and sighed. He still had his freakish skill as well. He hoped the skill hadn't effected his mother's love towards him.

_(Present Day)_

Cormac, reached the address. He pushed through the double doors, and walked up to reception. After a short explanation, he was waved through to a waiting room.

Colin was forced to wait an agonizingly long time. He kept walking up to the secretary, telling her that all he had to do was give this to...... But he was always told the same thing.

"I am sorry sir, but will you please wait until your turn." She spoke politely, but her voice was becoming laced with annoyance. Each time, he would sit down, looking at his watch constantly. He was probably going to be late for the show.

After another long wait. He was finally admitted through. He was determined to make this quick, to make the secretary regret her impoliteness. But after he saw the man's face, all his thoughts merged and vanished, until only pure, horrific shock remained.

This was the man who had killed his father.

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Did you get a shock? Probably not, because you knew he was alive anyway, right? A fight scene in the next chapter! Yes! ('Obsequies' are funeral rites, if you didn't know) 


	4. 3 Realization

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The chapter we've all been waiting for! If you think there's too little action, I might put in a bit more.

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Chapter 3. Realization

This was the man who had killed his father.

The man he had thought dead all this time.

The realization hit him like a sledgehammer. It drove the air out of his lungs. His eyes bulged, and his jaw dropped. The murderer of his father had gotten clean away with the murder, all because he had survived.

Hate started to build up in Cormac's stomach. Sure, this man was around fifty years older than before, but the features were the same. The same piercing eyes, the same twisted mouth, the same jaw. Cormac was sure this was the driver. He wasn't sure how he had lived, but he decided that he would live not a day longer.

The man finally realized Cormac was there. He looked puzzled, as if he recognized Cormac. _Something's familiar about him_, thought the man.

"How may I help you?" asked the man, still puzzled. He put down his papers, and squinted through his glasses. Then he saw it. The eyes. Those eyes belonged to... or rather _had_ belonged to......

Cormac made his move. He lunged at the man, curling his fingers into fists. His hate drove him on. He gave blows at terrifying speeds, landing blow after blow with the precision of a surgeon. The man floundered, trying to get hold of something. And suddenly, he gave a triumphant yell. He had a knife, long and thin, in his hand.

Cormac jumped off the manager, as the manager took a swipe at him. He missed, but no by much. He was now grinning like a madman. Cormac recognized it as the very same grin he had worn when he had run over his father.

The enraged man launched himself at Cormac, swiping his knife in the air. Cormac put his arm out to protect himself, and the knife went straight through it. The wielder of the knife yelled madly. But there was no blood. The dead arm flopped to the ground, but a new one was already growing. The man stared at this with horror. Cormac took this chance to smother this man with blow after blow.

The man was forced backwards, and ended up tripping on his desk. He smashed through the window behind him, and went straight through. They were at least twenty floors up, and the man faced certain doom.

The manager screamed a piercing scream as he fell. Cormac watched as he fell, expecting some satisfaction. But he got none. That's the thing with murder for revenge; you never get any satisfaction out of it.

Cormac returned to camp, and he saw Mr. Tall, beckoning him over. Cormac sighed. Mr. Tall obviously had known this would happen.

"Colin, I know you wanted to avenge your father, but killing the one responsible will not help. Nobody will find out you did it, of course, but even then...." Mr. Tall trailed off.

"Whatever you say, Mr. Tall, I will still not regret what I have done" Cormac spoke with a confidence he didn't know he had. He turned and left. He went to his tent, and prepared for the show.

Mr. Tall sighed. It was very rare to hear him sigh, and he only allowed himself one every few days. Cormac was going to become very emotional now, he was sure of it. He was going to have to look even further.......

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Guess what Mr. Tall's looking for! Guess via review!


	5. 4 Abandoned

The first part is now officially over. Short, wasn't it? The second part is scheduled to be a bit longer. 

To my reviewers:

Jerichoholic-Edgehead: Oh, go on! Take a wild guess. It's really obvious, isn't it?

FunkyDonky: Hey, I was wondering when I was going to get one from you!

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Chapter 4. Abandoned

The Cirque was moving on. Their next destination was 35km west of their present position. Mr. Tall had shown them, once again, just before they left. It was a small town, just off the coast. Cormac could see no reason why Mr. Tall had decided to go there, but he didn't complain. He remembered when Mr. Tall had come to his own town, and had taken him in without question......

_(34 years ago)_

Mother and son walked hand in hand. The son, now twelve, walked along quickly and excitedly. The mother, on the hand, pulled him back, like any mother would, but the look on her face said anxiety. They approached the abandoned windmill, and the son became even more excited. By the entrance, a sign said, AUDIENCE GO STRAIGHT. As they approached, an extremely tall man approached them.

"May I have your tickets, please?" asked the man, holding out his hand. The boy urged his mother to take out their tickets, and she did so. The boy rushed in, and as the mother started to follow him, the tall man whispered into his mother's ear as she passed. She stopped abruptly, and turned to face him. Her face was filled with shock and guilt. The man nodded, and she slowly turned, and rushed in after her son. The tall man followed them slowly. He knew what was going to happen here. He knew what he had to do.

The show went on smoothly. The boy was enthralled by it all, while the mother still hadn't gotten over the shock. When the souvenirs came round, the boy nearly bought one of each. The mother didn't speak, even when asked a question. The boy was puzzled; if only he knew what his mother was thinking, he would have screamed for her to come to her senses. But he didn't know then, he couldn't have. And anyway, the show was starting. His attention was back to the stage.

The tall man watched all this from the darkness. He nodded, and slunk away into one of the corridors. He walked effortlessly, covering a few hundred metres of corridor easily. He then waited. He took out a chair from virtually nowhere, and sat down. He wasn't going to wait long.

When the show was over, and everybody else had gone, the boy remained, becoming more and more nervous. His mother had told him to stay here; that she was just going to the loo, but that had been thirty minutes ago. He stood up uncertainly, and approached the place where his mother had gone. The corridor was dark as midnight, with the light becoming fainter and fainter inside. It was like being inside a long, endlessly long mouth.

He called out to his mother. "Mum! Where are you?" But no answer came. Not a sound. He tried again. Same response. He decided to go back, but he was lost. He couldn't find his way back. As he stumbled around blindly, his arms outstretched, he felt the wall in front of him. It split into two directions. Left or right. From the right, a warmer, more welcoming air seemed to drift. Just as he made his decision, somebody grabbed him.

He screamed. He completely lost it, thrashing around, hitting his invisible assailant.

Who suddenly appeared before him like a hallucination. It was the extremely tall man, and he was holding an old-fashioned lamp. The boy stopped thrashing, and he started sobbing quietly.

"My name is Hibernius Tall," said the man, "it seems that I am going to have to take care of you now"

The boy stopped in mid-sob. "But what about my mum?" he asked, his voice shaking like jelly.

"She has abandoned you, Colin," he sighed, and put his hand on Colin's shoulder. "She was never comfortable with the knowledge of your incredible skill, and when the Cirque du Freak came to town, she saw it an opportunity to get rid of you. I'm sorry"

Colin started crying aloud now, huge teardrops plopping softly to the floor. The crying echoed around the corridors, and Mr. Tall let him cry. He led Colin outside, and let him stay in his caravan for the night. He would introduce him to everybody the next morning.

_(Present day)_

Cormac walked over to Mr. Tall. Something had always bothered him, ever since the day he first came, and joined, the Cirque. He had always wanted to ask, but he found that he either didn't have the time, or couldn't pluck up his courage to ask. But he decided that he would ask today. It was sort of fitting, as this was the anniversary of the day he joined.

He walked up to the towering man, roasting sausages over a fire. They had just arrived at their destination. As Cormac opened his mouth to speak, Mr. Tall stuck out a sausage and asked, "Do you want one, Colin?"

"No thanks. Actually, I came to talk to you about...." started Cormac.

Mr. Tall stood up, and looked at Cormac in the eye.

"Are sure you want to know?" he asked. Cormac nodded.

"I said to your mother, as she followed you, 'I'll take good care of him for you'. I think I've stayed good to my word, Colin."

And, as soon as he heard the words, he burst into tears, just as he had, thirty-four years ago...

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Okay, that was abnormally long, but it was quite an emotional one (sob) . I hope you liked it, because I sure enjoyed writing it! 


	6. 5 The Decision

Now it's the start of an adventure. An occasional flashback or two, perhaps, but otherwise only the present will be written. Mr. Tiny joins the story. Enjoy!

To my reviewers:

Jerichoholic-Edgehead: Glad you liked it. Yeah, so maybe it _is _better written long.... but not yet.

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Chapter 5. The Decision

The Cirque du Freak never seemed to meet problems. Either that, or Mr. Tall always expected them to arise, and prepared for it. The same did not go for its performers. One of them particularly. Cormac, ever since he had been told the ringmaster's words, he hadn't been the same. In the performances, he was bright, entertaining, the perfect performer. But once everyone had gone, he was an altogether different man.

Cormac knew that people were starting to worry about him, and part of him wanted to go to them, apologize, and explain to them exactly what was bothering him. But the majority of him insisted against it. He knew that if he kept this to himself for too long, his level of performance would drop, and he eventually might be kicked out of the Cirque. He knew he wouldn't be able to live with it if he had to leave. Only Mr. Tall knew about his past in the Cirque, and Cormac wanted to leave it that way. And there was something else that bothered him.

There was one other, outside the Cirque, that knew about him. His mother. He had always wondered where she had ended up. In fact, he now wanted to find her, more than ever. This was he was here now, packing his things, preparing his departure. He was going to ask Mr. Tall about his mother's whereabouts as soon as he could. Which would be... now. He shut his rucksack, slung it over his shoulder, and walked out of his caravan. As he strode over to Mr. Tall's caravan, a voice stopped him.

"Now, where are you going at this time of night, Colin Drewman?" asked the voice. It sent chills down his spine. He knew the voice.

Desmond Tiny emerged from the darkness, followed by three Little People. Wearing his sharp, yellow suit, his childish green Wellington boots, and his spectacles, Mr. Tiny presented himself. He was also holding his heart shaped watch. The Little People were as silent as ever.

"Desmond" whispered Cormac, his eyes wide and staring. As harmless-looking as he may seem, Mr. Tiny was an incredibly evil creature. He wasn't surprised that Mr. Tiny knew his real name, and presumably his past as well. So he had been wrong. One more person knew about his past. But he should have known. Mr. Tiny knew about everything.

"So," continued Mr. Tiny. "Going to find your mother, eh? Going to ask old Hibernius?" He chuckled. "I'm not sure if he'll help, you know. He might even not know!"

Cormac shook his head. "He'll know. I _know _he will" answered Cormac, and started to walk again.

"I know many things, Colin, and one of them is that Hibernius hasn't found her yet. True, he has been looking for her, but with no success. I have found her Colin; but if you don't want to know, fine." To this Cormac whirled round, facing the meddler. His face was a mixture of emotions; anger, confusion, annoyance, and disbelief. He couldn't bring himself to admit that Mr. Tall didn't know, but if Mr. Tiny said so...

Mr. Tiny sneered. It was in his nature to confuse people. And he loved doing it.

"Of course, I know where your mother is, but I'm not sure if I can tell you..." he trailed off. He was hanging out the bait. Would Cormac take it?

He did. "Anything! You know how much I want to see her again!" wailed Cormac. A solemn tear crept down his cheek.

"Well, if you put it that way..." started Mr. Tiny. And as Cormac heard what the little man had to say, it seemed that he had to make a decision. Fast.

"I will tell you where your mother is, only if you kill her afterwards." finished Mr. Tiny. His sneer could have frozen water.

Cormac faced a choice. Meet your mother, then never see her again, or don't see her and let her live. This was a Hobson's choice, he knew.

"You see," admitted Mr. Tiny, "if you don't kill her now, I'm afraid that she might prove a problem in the near future."

Cormac made his decision. He opened his mouth to speak...

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Another cliffhanger. Which would _you _have chosen? Tell me via review!


	7. 6 Sacrifice

Remember what I said to Jerichoholic-Edgehead? Well, I lied, because this _is _quite long (I think). Another (sob) sad chapter. R&R!

To my reviewers:

Jerichoholic-Edgehead: I'm afraid that this is a tragedy, so it won't be that happy.

WildTotodile: Yeah, what?

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Chapter 6. Sacrifice

"Is there no other way?" asked Cormac, sounding surprisingly stronger than he actually was.

"I'm afraid," answered Mr. Tiny, "that that is impossible. If you let her live, but not see her, in a mere few weeks, this Cirque will be plunged into inevitable darkness. If you meet her, then kill her, you and this Cirque will continue undisturbed. It is your choice."

Cormac knew that Mr. Tiny wouldn't lie about the future. And yet, if he killed his own mother, he would never be able to live with himself, ever again. He thought for what seemed an eternity, then asked a question that tasted like defeat in his mouth.

"Where is she?"

_(One week later)_

Cormac looked at his map. He had arrived. The town was very small, with only living areas and a local supermarket. Not an ideal place to live, but perfect for people who wanted to get away from everyone else. He sighed. _I can't believe she's come this far_, thought Cormac.

He approached the address he had written on his palm. It was like all the other houses; a non-descript door, plain white walls, and a front lawn that had barely had enough space to lie down in. A few flowers were growing there. Cormac made sure he didn't step on them. He pressed the doorbell, and it rang an old, tuneless sound.

The door opened. Cormac couldn't suppress a gasp. His mother, already around sixty, looked as young and fit as a forty year old.

"Yes? How may I help you?" she asked. She was wearing a bathrobe, a pair of pink slippers and was holding a mug of steaming tea. Her voice was energetic, but drowsy, for it was seven in the morning.

Cormac couldn't move. He couldn't speak. His mother looked so much like before. Could she really be the bringer of downfall to the Cirque, his home? She very well could be, he reasoned. But he remained silent.

"Wait, I think I've seen you befor...!!" she screamed, and dropped her mug. It shattered on the floor, and the contents dripped on to the grass. She threw her arms around him, and sobbed uncontrollably. Cormac finally moved, and hugged his mother back, sobbing as well. For a moment, he forgot all about Mr. Tiny and his prophecy. His mind was full with the fact that he had his mother in his arms again.

She pulled away. "Colin, are you still with..." she muttered, suddenly looking darker, even guilty. For a moment, she stayed silent. Cormac looked at her with uncertainty. Then he remembered Mr. Tiny's prophecy. _So it's true_, thought Cormac. _She's going to do something to the Cirque_.

She turned, and walked further down the corridor. Cormac couldn't see what she was doing, so he stepped into the house, the carpet squishing as he walked on it.

She turned around. She had a shotgun in her hand. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, "but I just can't, Colin. Not anymore." She paused. "I'm so sorry, Colin."

She fired once. She had her eyes closed. When she opened them, her son wasn't there. Her shotgun had made a lot of noise, and people were starting to gather around the house. She looked around. She couldn't find him.

That was when he dropped down from the ceiling.

He moved like quicksilver. He grabbed her shotgun, pushing it down, and held her mouth closed, before she could scream.

"You won't kill me that easily, mother." he whispered into her ear. When her son whispered this, the realization hit her in the gut. _I tried to kill my son, my beloved son_. She pulled her son's hand away, and screamed, like that day when she saw her son grow back his limbs. Everybody ran away at once. Soon, the street was empty.

She struggled with Cormac, broke free, and aimed the shotgun at him again. She fired, and a vase broke, but she didn't hit her son. She whipped around, and as she was firing, Cormac's hand pushed the barrel up. This proved fatal.

The bullet went straight up, and embedded itself into her skull. Blood spilt out from the wound. Cormac screamed, and yet she made no sound. She felt no pain; in fact, all her pains were gone. She smiled at her son, who had laid her down on the floor, and was sobbing over her.

"I love you, Colin. I'm so sorry..." she whispered. Then her head dropped. She was dead.

Colin's wail was audible from far, far away.

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(Sob) Keep reading. The story is estimated to end in two chapters or so, because of the (sob) sad happening. R&R! 


	8. 7 Eternal Regret

Ladies and gentlemen! The story is about to end! Read up, read up! OK, so I'm lying. There will be and epilogue. Anyway, two updates on one day! You lot are lucky!

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Chapter 7. Eternal Regret

**

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**

Nancy Drewman

**Wife, Mother, Widow**

**She died after an Eternal Struggle**

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Cormac looked at his mother's grave. It was next to his father's, side by side. He was crying openly. But nobody noticed; nobody was there. He was alone. 

Mr. Tiny's prophecy had come true. He had went to see his mother, and now she was dead. But the way he said it, it seemed like he had a choice. _I will tell you where your mother is, only if you kill her afterwards_. That was what Mr. Tiny had said, and Cormac supposed he was right. He had killed his own mother, when he pushed the barrel of the shotgun up, causing the bullet to fire straight into his mother's skull. He wondered what would have happened if he had let his mother be. _The Cirque will be plunged into inevitable darkness_. Could it have been so? Or was it just a hollow threat to lure Cormac to kill his mother?

But he knew it was too late. He had killed her. Nothing more could be said. Only Mr. Tiny could bring her back, and he knew the meddler wouldn't.

Cormac only had one person in his family left. Well, only technically. Hibernius Tall had adopted him, taken care of him, and taught him, so he pretty much was a parent to him. If he left, he would feel like a lost man with no clothes. Sure, he had the friends at the Cirque, but he wasn't really close to any of them.

_If only......_ thought Colin Drewman, also known as the Amazing Cormac Limbs.

**THE END**

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If I sounded too cheerful back then at the start, it's because I'm hyper on Pepsi and chocolates. R&R! 

_(Author's Note: An announcement to all readers who are interested: after I've written the epilogue, I'm going to put in a quiz about the story. The person who answers them all correctly, and puts it in first wins! First prize is a starring role in one of my new fanfics! Second prize is a not-so-starring role in one of my new fanfics. Of course, there's no guarantee that the story will be in Darren Shan, for it could be in ASoUE or AF, but if you want, you could always request it. More information when it happens.)_


	9. Epilogue

The time has come to say goodbye, I'm afraid. I don't know how Darren Shan was going to deal with Cormac, but here's my shot. If you don't like it, tough. Of course, I could always do alternate endings......

**To my (only) reviewers:**

Jerichoholic-Edgehead- I'm afraid all great stories have to end, and although short, so does this. I thank you for saying you want to take my quiz. (You might be the only one) If you win, I might tell you why I had to end this quickly.....

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Epilogue

_(This is set a few years after Book Eleven, and Hibernius Tall's death.)_

Cormac Limbs looked lost. His eyes were ringed with black, and had bags under them. Ever since Hibernius Tall passed away because of machinegun fire in his chest, Cormac was never the same. He retired from the Cirque, and disappeared from the rest of the world. He lived in the house where his mother had lived, only a few years ago. But to Cormac, it was an eternity.

He was hallucinating. Sometimes he saw his father, smiling and holding his had, other times he saw his mother, hugging him with tears in her eyes. But most of all, he saw Mr. Tall, taking care of him, talking to him, helping him with his problems. But they were all gone. Every one of them had detached themselves from his life. He sometimes heard them laughing too, way up in the heavens.

Rumours were going around about him. He knew that, and he didn't protest. A man looking decades older than he actually was, walking around like a beggar, gibbering and talking to thin air, attracted a lot of attention from the locals. But he didn't mind. He didn't care. He couldn't bring himself to care.

Then, one day, he finally went outright mad. His mother's shotgun was still there, hidden in the shadows behind the back of the cupboard. He had always wondered if he could cut his head off, and then grow it back. And today, he decided, he would test it. So he grabbed the shotgun, and fired it point blank in his face.

He immediately realized he could not grow it back. But by then, he wasn't in the house. He was in a field, with lush green grass, and flowers of all kinds growing. And over there, at the edge of the horizon, were his parents. They were laughing, looking happy, and they were beckoning him over. He started laughing as well, and ran over to where his parents were. A soft, white light, coming from the heavens, surrounded everything. But Mr. Tall wasn't there. Cormac only thought about it for a moment; then it disappeared. Cormac now had no worries, as he skipped with his parents to eternal happiness.

When the police found him, the blood was still gushing from his severed head. His hand still held the shotgun. Parts of his head were found lying around, and they saw that from his lips, he had been smiling at the time. The corpse was buried next to the graves of his parents. On his gravestone, there was a single statement:

**

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**He had an amazing skill, but it didn't help him in the end

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**

Indeed. Now, get ready, because it's....... THE 'ALWAYS GROWING BACK' QUIZ! (More information on the page)


	10. The AGB Quiz!

Sorry to keep you waiting for so long. I was at residential for a week.Anyway, everything is explained below.

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Yes, it's…

The 'Always Growing Back' Quiz!

All you have to do is answer these questions correctly, and send it to me via review. If you send it to me by e-mail, it will not be counted. But you could send me an e-mail about personal requests if you win. The first five questions are multiple choice, then you have to go writing them down. Ready? Go! Hey, it's really easy! It's a sort of first come, first serve competition!

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1.What was the food Cormac wanted, even if it was the only one?

(a)Chocolate Cake

(b)Pineapple Cake

(c)Chocolate Doughnut

(d)Plain Doughnut

2.Which parts did Cormac lose, and then grow back, after the car crash?

(a)His left arm and right leg

(b)His left arm and left leg

(c)His right arm and left leg

(d)His right arm and right leg

3.When Cormac approached him, what did Mr. Tall offer to give?

(a)A marshmallow

(b)A sausage

(c)A glass of Coke

(d)A newspaper clipping

4._This was a , ? he knew. _What phrase goes into the space?

(a)Hobson's choice

(b)Harring's choice

(c)Andrew's milkshake

(d)Hobson's car

5.What weapon did Cormac's mother use to try to kill him?

(a)A handgun

(b)A grenade

(c)A sword

(d)A shotgun

6.Give the full name of Cormac's father's killer.

7.How did Cormac's mother die?

8.Give the full names of Cormac, his father and his mother, in the order given.

9.Who was the only person left for Cormac?

10.Describe what Cormac looked like in the Epilogue.

Extra: How did Cormac die, and how old, roughly, was he when he died?

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Send in your answers quickly, and you have a chance to appear in one of my fanfics! I will announce the winner, and runner-up, after a while. If you put it in afterwards, too late. Also, if the winner and the runner-up have any questions about the story, I'll do my best to answer them.

If you're thinking, "Hey! If I put my answers on the reviews page, then wouldn't anyone be able to see it?", you're right. They will all be able to see your answers. But if they copy you, they still have to put the answers _after _you, so there will be no liability being bypassed.

**(Author's Note: When you put the answers in, make sure you sign it, otherwise somebody might remove your review.)**


	11. The Alternate Epilogue

Oh my God! I know you think this is pretty slow for me, but I just read Book Twelve, and I found my Epilogue obsolite! So here it is, the _Alternate _Epilogue. No questions on this chapter for the Quiz, folks.

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The _Alternate _Epilogue

_(This is set a few years after Book Twelve, and Hibernius Tall's death.)_

The two heads of Cormac Limbs looked lost. Both pairs of eyes were ringed with black, and had bags under them. Ever since Hibernius Tall passed away because of machinegun fire in his chest, Cormac was never the same, especially when he found out what happened if he took off his head. He retired from the Cirque, and disappeared from the rest of the world. He lived in the house where his mother had lived, only a few years ago. But to Cormac, it was an eternity.

He was hallucinating. Sometimes he saw his father, smiling and holding his had, other times he saw his mother, hugging him with tears in her eyes. But most of all, he saw Mr. Tall, taking care of him, talking to him, helping him with his problems. But they were all gone. Every one of them had detached themselves from his life. He sometimes heard them laughing too, way up in the heavens.

He never went out, and yet rumours were going around about him. He knew that, and he didn't protest. A man with two heads, looking decades older than he actually was, walking around like a beggar, gibbering and talking to thin air, attracted a lot of attention from the locals. But he didn't mind. He didn't care. He couldn't bring himself to care.

Then, one day, he finally went outright mad. Well, one head, anyway. His mother's shotgun was still there, hidden in the shadows behind the back of the cupboard. He grabbed it against his other head's wishes, and shot himself three times, once in the gut, once in the chest, and finally a shot into the sane head.

Blood sprayed out from the first two wounds, but no blood came from the neck. Instead, another two heads grew in its place. Now Cormac had three heads.

But unless he was treated with medical attention, he was dead. The bullet in the chest had been a millimetre from his heart. The bullet hadn't torn his torso and below apart from his body, so there was no chance of growing another complete body again.

Cormac realized this. He suddenly knew he was going to die. And he welcomed it . He welcomed death as an escape from the tortures of life. He felt his soul start to drift away from his body, slowly, yet surely. He felt much lighter, and his troubles and his stress started to ebb away.

All of a sudden, he wasn't in the house. He was in a field, with lush green grass, and flowers of all kinds growing. And over there, at the edge of the horizon, were his parents. They were laughing, looking happy, and they were beckoning him over. He started laughing as well, and ran over to where his parents were. A soft, white light, coming from the heavens, surrounded everything. But Mr. Tall wasn't there. Cormac only thought about it for a moment; then it disappeared. Cormac now had no worries, as he skipped with his parents to eternal happiness.

When the police found him, they gasped at the horror before them. All three heads had different expressions on their faces; surprise on one face, sadness on another, and the most disturbing of all, grinning like a maniac on the last. The blood from his wounds was still gurgling. He was sight to behold. In the funeral, the coffin lid stayed closed for fear of panic.

The corpse was buried next to the graves of his parents. On his gravestone, there was a single statement:

**He had an amazing skill, but it didn't help him in the end**

**

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**

Finally, the 'Always Growing Back: The Upbringing of A Performer' is complete. I hope you enjoyed it.

A HUGE thank you to Jerichoholic-Edgehead, for always reviewing my stories, encouraging me to continue, everything a good author needs. Thanks, man.


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